Honeymoon
by Knuxle
Summary: A nice walk on a beach of Italy at sunrise. Fluffy Hiddlesbatch one-shot from Tom's point of view. If you don't like HiddlesBatch, don't read it. Don't forget to leave reviews! I always love reviews!


**AN: IT'S HIDDLESBATCH, PEOPLE. IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT, DON'T READ IT.**

I looked to my left, and caught yet another glimpse of Benedict's gorgeous profile. However, I quickly averted my eyes and stared at the sand beneath my feet instead. It was the kind of sand that was firm enough to walk along without your feet sinking into, just leaving a very faint footprint where you stepped. The air was not cold, nor warm, but a dampened cool that did not make me shiver. I loved the atmosphere, despite how early I had to rise in the morning. The night before, I had full intents to sleep the following day away, but those fantasies were put on hold as Benedict awoke me at 4:30 in the morning. It would have been even more painful had it not been for the time zone differences, but I was exhausted, nonetheless.

A soft hand reached over and intertwined its fingers in mine, and we continued walking. I stole another glance at Benedict before turning back to my right to watch the ocean. It was slightly difficult to see in the faint glimpses of dawn peeking over the horizon, but I could make out the dark water creeping up onto the sand, and then slowly washing back, leaving an outline of foam where it had been. Benedict's twirled the ring that sat on my finger, and chuckled.

"You know, Thomas, I thought that getting married would be another step in our relationship," He mused in his deep, quiet voice that made my heart want to melt, "But it seems as though we've fallen back to square one."

I paused, turned his words over in my mind, and asked, "What makes you think that?"

Benedict chuckled again, and replied, "You know, you're allowed to look at me,"

I stopped dead in my tracks, and fell silent. _He had noticed._ My new husband stepped in front of me, turned to look to me, and grabbed my other hand. While I must have had the most ridiculous expression, he smiled his gorgeous smile.

"Sorry," I said, pointedly, looking directly into his eyes. They were a beautiful teal color at the moment.

Benedict's smile softened, briefly, and he leaned in for a kiss. Suddenly, his eyes darted to the left and he whispered, "Shoot. It appears as though we're going to have to share this beach,"

I followed his gaze, and looked behind me. Sure enough, a man and a woman were walking, hands held, quite a distance behind us. I turned back to face Benedict, and his pale lips were pursed in a false pout.

"Sharing is caring," I scolded, playfully.

"All I care about right now is you," he answered, his teal eyes half-lidded. Leaning in further, he let go of my hands and placed them on my shoulders so his thumbs grazed my jaw hinge. Instinctively, I put mine on his waist, and pressed my forehead against his. I breathed deeply through my nose, trying to pick up on his scent; freshly shaven. God, _why_ did he have to be so perfect?

As if he had read my thoughts, Benedict closed his eyes fully and tilted his head to the right. I saw it coming, so I rushed to beat him to the cut. A bit more harshly than I had intended, our lips pressed together. As soon as it happened, I wanted to melt like chocolate into his arms, and stay there forever, but I somehow managed to keep myself in one piece. It was the fifteenth time he had kissed me ever since we had been pronounced married the previous day (but who's counting?) and I still was unable to fathom the fact that my crush from years and years ago that I had secretly admired during the production of War Horse was now my husband. _My husband. All mine._ I believed that I did not deserve him, even when we were just dating, but Benedict insisted that he did not deserve me either. Silently, I referred to ourselves as The Forever Privileged Couple. An interesting pair we were, I will admit, but we were constantly told that we were perfect for eachother. We were the type of couple that when Benedict would ask, "Do I look alright?" the answer was always yes, whether he was wearing a white T-shirt with a cardigan or a bunny suit (although to this day he looks best in either a crisp suit). We were also the type of couple who would out-compliment each other until the sun burned out. It became annoying to me that Benedict could not simply accept the fact that he was better than me and move on, but I was equally as persistent. Other people would find it very amusing to watch us get into, as they called it, 'The Friendliest Arguments Known To Man'. There was not a clear pattern as to who would win the most often, but Benedict tended to give in a bit more quickly than I.

A bit sooner than I had hoped, Benedict broke the kiss and slowly opened his mesmerizing eyes, but still rested his forehead on mine. We stared at each other in this position for quite a while as I went on one of my memorization routs. One of my favorite things to do when Benedict was this close was attempt to memorize his face. The mind-blowing color of his eyes, his beautiful cheekbones, his soft, fair lips, _everything_. He had picked up on this action quite a long while ago while we had just started dating, and allowed me to do as I wished.

Suddenly, in the midst of my studying, Benedict stole another quick kiss (number sixteen) before dropping his hands from my shoulders entirely, and taking my hands off his waist. He took my left hand again, and began walking on the firm sand again. I mentally sighed, but continued on as well.

After a while, the couple that was behind us had stopped and settled where they were, so we kept going. I could tell that Benedict wanted to get as far out of their range of hearing as possible, and more importantly out of their range of sight so they did not recognize us. He absolutely hated being interrupted when he was with me. Slowly, more sunlight leaked onto the beach, and the pale periwinkle sky began to transition to a light peach. When we were a very good distance from the other couple, we sat ourselves down on the stiff sand fairly close to the shoreline. There was very little wind, so the motion of the sea was very subtle, and wavy, the exact opposite of the crashing waves of Cliffs of Moher.

Benedict and I sat side-by side on the ground, and I instinctively put my arm over his shoulder.

"Look at us," he said as he wrapped his arm around my waist, "I can't say I saw this coming when I first saw you,"

I laughed lightly, and gently rested my head on his shoulder. "No, I don't think I did either,"

"It's amazing, though, isn't it?"

I simply nodded, and fixed my eyes on the horizon. The sun would be coming up soon.

"What do you want to do today?" Benedict asked, following my gaze.

"Sleep," I replied, in all seriousness.

My husband laughed, "Really, all day? We'll have to go home eventually,"

"But not today. We have plenty of time to explore Venice later, but today...just you and me,"

Benedict smiled, and kissed the top of my head (seventeen). "Alright. What about food? Do you want to go anywhere for dinner?"

"Nope,"

"How will we eat?"

I paused for a moment, then said, "We have room service,"

"That's fine by me," Benedict chuckled, and pulled me closer to him, "You're right. We'll save the activities for later,"

We both fell silent at that point, and focused only on the horizon. The ocean seemed to spread forever before us, its dark waters becoming illuminated in the soft bits of sunlight. The sky began to lighten even more, transitioning to a light shade of red, now. I kept my eyes fixed on the sky, before finally seeing the first glimpse of the sun. It appeared massive over the ocean, its golden rays bouncing and shimmering on the water. I stared for a while, before I broke into a huge grin, and hugged Benedict tighter. Despite my happiness, I felt tears form in my eyes, before one spilled out, and over my right cheek. Benedict reached his thumb up, and brushed it away. The sunlight bathed his gorgeous face, and I looked up to get another eyeful. His eyes were watering as well, so I squeezed him even tighter. Now, the sun was halfway visible, and the sky was a bright orange before us.

Benedict let go of me waist and held my face in both hands. He leaned forward, planted a gentle kiss on my lips (eighteen), and whispered, "I love you so much, Thomas,"

"I love you more," I challenged, another tear sliding down my cheek.

He brushed it away again, and pulled me into a tight embrace. "I love you most,"


End file.
